


Getting Lucky

by cruisedirector, Dementordelta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Caught, Community: hp_wankfest, Embarrassment, Felix Felicis, First Kiss, M/M, Magic, Masturbation, Potions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dementordelta/pseuds/Dementordelta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Harry Potter needed any more evidence that he required a change in his luck, he got it when his vial of Felix Felicis spilled onto the floor of the broom closet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Lucky

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Snarry Wankfest 2011 for the prompt "Harry Potter in the Broom Closet with Felix Felicis." Beta read by isidore13 and swtalmnd.

If Harry Potter needed any more evidence that he required a change in his luck for the better, he got it when his hard-won vial of Felix Felicis tipped over and spilled onto the floor of the broom closet.

"Great," he said out loud. He'd had to subject himself to four hours of Slughorn's company to get the Felix Felicis. First he'd gone to one of those interminable parties attended by every pseudo-celebrity and would-be-celebrity of Slughorn's wide acquaintance, where all anyone talked about was who knew which other famous witches and wizards. Then, afterward, he'd had a drink with an already drunken Slughorn, during the course of which Harry found himself promising to be a speaker at Slughorn's upcoming 100th birthday party.

At least Slughorn had already consumed so much firewhisky that Harry knew he wouldn't remember the conversation by the time the momentous birthday rolled around. Nor would Slughorn remember the reason Harry had mumbled when he asked whether his former potions teacher happened to have any Felix Felicis stored among his impressive collection of potions:

"I need to break up with Ginny Weasley in a way that won't make her entire family hate me."

Slughorn, naturally, had assumed this was because Harry had his eye on a more famous witch than Ginny, rather than because Harry would rather be dating a wizard. Not that Harry had any particular wizard in mind, at the moment. He just wanted to make sure that, should he happen to meet a tall, dark, and greasy-haired professor -- well, a wizard to whom he was attracted -- Harry wouldn't have to compound the difficulty of telling Ron that he was gay with the outrage of telling Ron that he was leaving Ginny.

That particular problem had made it impossible for Harry to go to George Weasley for Felix Felicis; Harry had no doubt that George could procure the potion, but he'd have been suspicious and snooped after the reason Harry had asked for it. So he couldn't ask George to get him some, and he didn't dare try to get more from Slughorn. He'd probably have to agree to get Slughorn the Order of Merlin, First Class.

If only Snape were alive, Harry could have begged him for Felix Felicis to change his luck. Though if only Snape were alive, it would be enough luck that Harry wouldn't need Felix Felicis.

But now Harry's precious potion was absorbing into the wooden floor beneath his feet. Quickly he pulled out his wand and cast _Impervius_ , which left the remaining puddle clinging to the floor. He tried _Wingardium Leviosa_ to get it back into its vial, then a Refilling Charm when that didn't work, but Slughorn must have put some sort of spell onto the vial to prevent its owner from trying to reuse it or make more of the stuff.

With a sigh, Harry set down his wand and tried to scoop up the Felix Felicis with his fingers. That, at least, wasn't a complete failure, as the droplets clung to his skin, tingling faintly. When he licked the fingers, his lips and tongue tingled, too.

Well, this was promising...lucky, even. Even if he didn't get the effects of a full vial of the stuff, perhaps Harry would get a bit of good fortune. He pushed up his sleeves, trying to scoop up more of the Felix Felicis without wasting any splashing on his clothing. The sweet liquid dripped on his bare arm, giving him goosebumps all the way up to his shoulder and making his nipples tighten.

Even if there weren't any live wizards occupying Harry's fantasies, he did have urges. Urges that hadn't been satisfied in far too long.  He looked down at his own fingers as if expecting to see them sparking or glowing but they were still tingling a bit from even the small amount he'd managed to capture from the vial.  The rest was now soaked into the floor of the closet.

The first time he'd used Felix Felicis he'd felt a surge of certainty.  This time he was feeling a surge all right, though of an entirely different sort.  Suddenly it was the best of luck that the potion had spilled and wasn't the closet a perfect place for a wank?  His hand was reaching for his zipper when he tried to resist.  He'd spilled the potion, not ingested it and he couldn't be feeling lucky just now, except --

Except he really needed a wank, right here in this cluttered old broom closet and right now when his fingers were tingling.  Once he tugged his prick out of his pants he felt a tingle there too.

He moaned breathlessly.  He did not moan a soft name.  That would be -- oh yes, so lucky.  "Snape -- "  It was easy really to picture Snape, striding between the desks of his classroom, robes billowing -- no, in something more casual. Elegant. Like his fingers.  Relaxed even, or having a wank, just like -- oh fuck -- this.

Harry's hand sped up and there was a roaring in his ears, as though someone had come through the Floo in the other room, though it must have been the blood pounding in his temples, or perhaps his ears were tingling too.  This was definitely the right thing to do, he had never felt as lucky as this, though he couldn't imagine how this was going to help him break up with Ginny, because even as good as this felt he was glad it was his own hand and not any of the various orifices she'd offered.  

"Yes, oh fuck, Snape -- "

He heard the noise again, but, lost in his fantasy of the Snape that had probably never been -- the one who might drop in to visit Harry, to sit and talk and have tea and maybe be persuaded to spend the night --

"Potter, is that you?"

That voice, fuck, so close, as though it was in the next room, calling out with just the right amount of vexation and crossness.  This potion must be the best batch Slughorn had ever brewed or perhaps it was a holdover from Snape's time in the dungeon.  "Yes, oh yes," Harry moaned, head jerking up at the sounds, so much like someone moving around in the sitting room outside, someone close enough to pull open the closet door --

With a yelp, Harry realized the door _was_ opening, and just as in his fantasy, there stood Snape, open-mouthed, staring at him, eyes lowering at once to Harry's hand still moving on his prick.  Damn Slughorn for making such a potent potion; it was even giving him hallucinations to go with the best climax of his --

"Fuck!" he cried out, spurting out helplessly all over his fingers.  

The hallucination looked just as angry as the real Snape would have been.  Harry just gaped, drinking in the sight of the image.  The potion had got all the details right, or perhaps it took the elements of Harry's fantasy directly from his lust-addled brain.  There was even a slight flush on the pale cheeks before he seemed the come to his senses and frown.  "What -- what are you -- "  He looked down again at Harry's spent cock. "Why were you calling my name?"  He looked really cross now.  "Are you trying to embarrass me?"

Harry slumped back against the wall of the closet, knocking over several brooms, panting, trying to think of anything about Felix Felicis that might explain this quite lovely, but all too odd hallucination.  "Embarrass?"  he asked, blinking a bit in confusion.  The image did not waver or look insubstantial, or cloud over like a bad memory.  "Why aren't you vanishing?"

The hallucination stared at him as though he'd lost his mind.  "Why were you calling my name if you wanted me to vanish?"  He was looking at Harry's bunched up trousers and pants again, at the mess on Harry's fingers.  "Shall I wait for you to make yourself presentable out there?" he asked, gesturing toward the sitting room, though his gaze still wasn't on Harry's face, or anywhere really above his waist.

There was one way to connect his brain back with his eyes and with his sense.  Harry reached out to touch the vision that shouldn't be firm enough to be felt, even with the best damn vial of Felix Felicis ever brewed.  Only he realized he was using the hand that had gotten messy and hastily withdrew it and switched hands. "Are you -- "  His fingers touched cloth. And warmth. "Real?"

The image didn't waver.  In fact it rolled its eyes. "No, I'm a phantasm conjured by too much of whatever potion you've been drinking."  He sniffed.  "Felix Felicis?"

Harry nodded, feeling stupid, and a little crestfallen.  A phantasm? Was that some sort of magical being he hadn't heard of yet?  "I thought so," he said.  "I was hoping -- it was stupid really."  Then he frowned and felt the tingling again in his fingers.  "Wait, I touched you?  How can you be a phantasm?"

The phantasm, er, Snape barked a laugh. "Potter, I am not a phantasm.  If you had paid _any_ attention in Potions class instead of stealing my notes you would know that Felix Felicis does not cause hallucinations."

"Does...not..." Harry shook his head trying not to echo the phan -- er, Snape.  "Then why am I hallucinating?"  Only he knew he hadn't hallucinated that shattering orgasm and he was still standing here with his flaccid prick hanging out of his trousers in front of whatever this was.  With a frantic motion, he tucked himself back in and zipped up, certain he was imagining the look on the hallucin -- er, Snape's face.

"You are not hallucinating," Snape said, straightening up in the doorway.  "I arrived here in the usual manner via your fireplace.  Weren't you informed that I was coming?"

Now really this was too much, even for a hallucination.  Harry's mouth opened, sputtering a bit before forming the words of outrage stuck there.  "Informed that a dead man was coming to visit?  I don't think so, let me check my dead appointments calendar."

If phantasms could get pale, this one did, its mouth opening exactly as Harry's had done.  "Dead...?  You mean they didn't even inform you that I was alive?  Are you in in some sort of trouble in the Auror Office that they're keeping things from you?"

"How long have you been alive?" Harry asked, only realizing belatedly how stupid that question sounded.  "I mean, why -- why are you alive?"

Snape looked like he was studying Harry for any signs of madness with the intent of conjuring a restraint should one become necessary.  He turned toward the sitting room and gestured.  "Why don't we sit down someplace.  If I'd known you thought I was dead, I wouldn't have come."

Flushing a bit at the word "come" Harry pushed away from the closet wall, following his phantom -- er, Snape into the other room.  "Why not?  Do you hate me that much, still?"

Snape made a face at him, only barely glancing down but enough to remind them both of exactly what Harry had been doing a few moments ago.  Something tingled again.  "Because I've clearly -- interrupted -- you.  I assumed you'd been informed that reports of my demise had been premature."

Sinking onto the couch, Harry shook his head.  He'd been working so hard, first in his training, then at his job.  And spending so much time with Ginny trying to figure a way out of marrying her just because he was too soft-hearted and too afraid of her family's reaction to truly break it off with her.  "You're alive.  I -- fuck, and you saw me wanking over you."  He looked down at his fingers, still a bit slick with the potion, though thankfully he'd wiped anything else off on his trousers.  

Hovering above him, Snape looked astonished before finally sitting on the couch, though as far from where Harry was sitting as humanly possible.  "You were -- why were you -- "  He looked down into his lap and instead of finishing his question, said, "Er, yes, I am alive."

Simply staring for a moment Harry shook his head. "How -- no, it doesn't matter.  I'm glad you are.  I know you probably don't believe me but truly I am."  He was still feeling lingering aftereffects, though whether from the potion or from the orgasm he wasn't certain.  Harry had to close his eyes a moment to make sure he wasn't back in his fantasy image of Snape.

Snape's posture was very stiff.  "I was aware that the Dark Lord would likely try to kill me when he decided I had outlived my usefulness to him.  I had taken potions in case of such an attack."  

The happiness Harry had been feeling since realizing Snape was not a hallucination nor a phantasm shone through as he smiled.  "I knew you were too clever to go down like that. Then, when I saw your memories I -- " He laughed shakily.  "Well, I realized I'd been misled in your loyalties."

It looked almost -- only almost -- as though Snape was about to smile.  "At any rate," he said, his mouth returning it its customary near-scowl, "I survived.  However, the Ministry still has some questions about my role in those events."  

"Is that -- is that why you came to see me?" Harry asked, leaning closer on the couch.  

"The Acting Minister said that he would owl you.  When you said my name, I assumed you were inviting me in."

Which explained the sudden tinge of pink in Snape's cheeks.  Harry rubbed a hand over his own chin.  "I was -- well, you know what I was doing.  It wasn't the first time.  It was just the first time with Felix Felicis on my fingers."

This prompted a snort from the other end of the couch.  "Did you consider drinking it?"  

Harry turned his face onto his hand, leaning over one knee.  "Well, of course I did."  He sighed.  "Only I spilled it and when I touched it, it tingled and I got this overwhelming urge -- "  He cleared his throat, feeling suddenly shy despite what Snape had already seen him doing.  "It was _really_ overwhelming."

Snape at least looked like he was listening, though more the way he used to listen when he'd asked some impossible question in class.  "Ah. I do remember reading something about it tingling on the skin."  He rubbed his hand over his face, looking less like he was in a classroom and more like he was in Harry's sitting room.  "I don't suppose you'd care to tell me what use the most famous wizard in the world, who defeated the Dark Lord without any extra luck, has for Felix Felicis?"

Despite even the vestiges of the potion tingling on his fingers -- and other places -- Harry felt glum at his need to confess.  "The most famous wizard in the world is afraid to break up with the girl he's dating, since he's too afraid to tell her, no matter how many times she tries to kiss him, that he'd rather be kissing his former Potions teacher."

He sidled a look at Snape to see how he'd taken this confession, but Snape seemed to think Harry had been joking. "You could pick a more appropriate excuse.  Is it another girl?"  His questions at least he was taking seriously.  "Or that you prefer to enjoy your fame without encumbrances?"

Harry flopped back against the couch, one leg bouncing restlessly.  "There's never going to be another girl.  I prefer men.  I always have, no matter how much I tried to be -- "  He sighed again, shrugging.  "Normal."

This was not just the strangest conversation he'd ever had after wanking, it was the strangest conversation he'd ever had with Snape.  Snape appeared to be taking his dilemma seriously.  "Ah.  You should tell your girlfriend that, then.  No lies."

"Don't you think I've tried.  She just -- "  He waved on hand helplessly.  "Ignores me and comes up with some reason why we're supposed to do something in public so she can be seen with me.  Everyone thinks we're a couple except me."  

It felt very odd to be confessing his romantic troubles to Snape, but at least Snape hadn't run away screaming.  Snape even laughed a bit.  "Well, if she wants to be seen with you, that's easily enough done.  You get to keep your privacy, she gets to claim to be part of a couple with the most famous wizard in the world.  Sounds like a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Frowning, Harry shook his head.  "No."  He didn't need the tingling of the lingering potion to feel quite firm about this.  "Especially not now that I know you're alive."   Snape looked like he might laugh at this or quiz Harry again and despair settled over him again.  "Not that I think you would ever consider me for -- I mean, sir."

Snape crossed his legs, then uncrossed them, as if uncertain what to do with them.  "What does my being alive have to do with anything?"

There was the briefest tingle in Harry's fingertips and a momentary burst of clarity.  He should confess all.  He was sure of it.  He took a deep breath and a deep swallow for courage.  "I don't know if you have a -- a lover, but I'd like a chance to get to know you better, to, um, do what real couples do -- go out, spend time together."

That had gone reasonably well, Harry thought, rewarded by renewed tingling spreading from his fingertips to his wrists.  Only Snape was staring at him, not quite open-mouthed but lips quivering as if uncertain whether to laugh again or cast a spectacularly unpleasant spell on Harry. "Potter -- what did you swallow besides Felix Felicis?"  He leaned forward as if about to examine Harry for evidence of unlawful potions. "You loathe me."

Oh yes, that had gone quite well.  He sat back, feeling quite defeated.  "I don't. Loathe you.  But I should have known you still loathed me.  I -- will you let me at least let me try to convince you I'm not as much of a prat as my father was?"

That frown definitely mitigated any tingle Harry had ever felt, anywhere, in any part of his body.  "You don't honestly believe I risked my life for years for someone I loathed?"

"But you -- "  Why was he arguing?  "Not loathing me isn't the same thing as letting me be...close to you."

Snape looked away, but not before Harry spotted the faint flush of color on his cheeks.  "You were underage."    
Something more substantial than potion-inspired tingling was clenching at Harry's chest.  He slid over a bit more on the couch, half-expecting Snape to bolt like a nervous First Year.  Snape did not bolt.  "I'm not underage any longer," Harry said.

Several expressions crossed Snape's face, none of them claiming a clear victory.  "You were my student," he said.  "I wasn't...kind to you."

As close as they were on the couch, Harry couldn't make out Snape's face.  "You couldn't be. Kind, I mean."  He laughed a little, though the memories were not pleasant.  But they had the shape of something that need not be looked back upon with a child's misunderstanding any longer.  "Well, you probably enjoyed that part but you never did anything but try to get me to be a better student."

"I never cared about your Potions marks," Snape admitted, and with the admission came Harry's first look at his face now that he'd stopped -- mostly -- blushing.  "I didn't try very hard to teach you anything except how to stay alive."

"It worked."  Harry let his fingers brush over Snape's until his hand covered Snape's.  Harry's fingers were tingling but he couldn't tell if it was still from the potion or just at not being shaken off.

Snape shivered.  "You owe me nothing, Potter."  But he was looking down at their hands.

Harry very much liked that shiver.  He hoped he hadn't misinterpreted it because Snape hadn't moved away or hexed him or done any of the things he'd done in Harry's less successful fantasies.  "I know.  I'm not doing this because of anything in the past."  He let his fingers move over Snape's, not quite holding his hand, but not releasing it completely.

"It must be something. You weren't doing what you were doing in the closet because I behaved charmingly the last time we met," Snape pointed out, but his tone was more of a man wanting to be talked into something than out of it.

"You were dying the last time we met. At least I thought you were."  Something chill passed through the room and they both shivered a bit.  Harry's fingers dug reflexively into Snape's, squeezing them briefly harder than he'd intended.  There was still a vestige of luck in this.  "I can't help noticing you aren't telling me not to pursue you," he said

Snape sputtered at that.  "I don't just mean when I was dying. I mean long before that. Why would you ever..." He was looking down at their hands again and Harry wasn't sure it was his imagination that one of Snape's fingers stroked, however briefly, against Harry's palm.  "Surely you know other men who like men."

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm sure you do too. And if you're with any of them, then you should tell me.  Otherwise I'd like the chance to show you that I'm not a reckless student with shallow hatreds. I know you did what you had to do, and I'm alive because of it."  He needed another deep breath to hear what Snape would say to all of this, but Snape only barked another laugh.

"I haven't been with anyone since before you arrived at Hogwarts. I had a job to do, remember, I had to keep you alive," Snape replied.  There was a brief tug as though he meant to retrieve his own hand from beneath Harry's but not firm enough to accomplish the act.

This admission did lovely things to Harry's confidence, a much-needed boost because the potion was definitely wearing off.  "You did it very well, even if I didn't realize all the things you were doing at the time. I do now and I'd like a chance to -- "  He squeezed Snape's fingers now, with no trace of a tingle at all.  

Snape squeezed back, then looked down again at their clasped hands as if not quite certain how they'd got that way.  "Do you still have that potion on your fingers?" he asked.

"Just a little. I used most of it, um -- "  Harry felt his cheeks warming again.  Snape wiggled his fingers again as though his own fingers were tingling. "Did I do something wrong? It felt -- "  He swallowed hard, but pressed on despite the rapidly heating cheeks.  "Really good."

Snape did not look displeased by this confession.  "If you mean, are there likely to be side effects, I think not," he said, one finger definitely stroking over Harry's hand now.  

Harry nodded, relieved, though of course he hadn't given a thought to the side effects or the consequences when the urge had overwhelmed him.  "Do you..."  He slid over just enough so that their legs were touching.  "Do you -- " he tried again, then changed his mind.  He was not nearly so certain of the proper way to proceed now that the potion had worn off.  He cleared his throat and said, "I'll speak to the Minister or anyone else you need me to."

Clearly confused, Snape stared at him.  "I -- thank you."

"Just so you know this isn't about that. But I'd really like to -- "  He glanced at Snape's mouth, then away.  "To kiss you."

Snape's breath hitched. "If - if you like." Then he looked uncertain, something Harry wasn't used to, especially not when he was this close.  Then Snape said, "It was just Felix Felicis? Not some sort of aphrodisiac or something affecting your libido?"

Harry laughed ruefully.  "Only if it was retroactive because that's not the first time I've thought about you like that."  He ran a hand through his hair, feeling, not for the first time since Snape had arrived, that they were on uncertain footing and that their words would determine more than the next few minutes.

Snape, though, was brilliant with words, mostly insults and bitter observations, but still better than Harry.  He looked more relaxed than a moment ago and Harry wondered if he too knew he had already won the war of words.  "I suppose you may kiss me. If you wish," he said.  

That didn't sound encouraging.  Harry started to slide his fingers away from Snape's. "You don't wish?" he asked, sounding more uncertain than he meant to.

When he looked up, Harry realized that Snape was studying his face, not as relaxed as a moment ago.  "I only wish if you are certain," he said, when becoming aware of Harry's regard.

There was no potion necessary that told Harry it was the right thing to reach up and stroke Snape's cheek.  "Very certain," he said, starting to lean in.  "I'm not -- that is, I don't have very much experience," he admitted, though he didn't move away.

One dark brow climbed. "Kissing? I saw you kissing girls in your memories," said Snape, looking not so much skeptical as inquiring.

"Not kissing, no. I mean, I don't think I'm complete rubbish at that," Harry said, clearing his throat.  He was suddenly nervous, despite the fact that Snape had already seen him with his prick hanging out of his trousers.  Kissing was the one thing he could close his eyes during and imagine anything -- and anyone -- he wanted.  "Though I haven't ever -- "  Feeling very daring, he brushed his lips very lightly over Snape's.  "Done that..."

A soft moan passed between them and Harry was certain it wasn't all his breath doing the moaning.  Then Snape was kissing him more firmly.  "With a man, you mean?" he asked, cupping Harry's chin.

Nodding, Harry leaned in for another kiss, got it and sighed happily.  "With the man I've been thinking about," he said.

Snape's fingers were drifting into Harry's hair, sliding over his cheek, stroking behind his ear.  "Neither have I."

Harry jerked back uncertainly.  Had he mistaken Snape's orientation?  He'd seen things in those memories, enough implication on Snape's boyhood crushes and young man's fancies to have confirmed his assumptions.  "Oh fuck, you're not -- I thought you were...like me," he said, stricken.  

"I didn't mean I'd never kissed a man. You said one you'd been thinking about," Snape was smiling and Harry relaxed, swaying a bit as he leaned forward again.  

"I've been thinking about you a lot. About doing this," Harry admitted, though it could be no surprise to Snape by now.

The kiss that followed was tinged a bit with curiosity.  "I noticed that in the broom closet," Snape said, his fingers stroking his cheek.

"I'm pretty sure I'm recovered," Harry said, kissing him again with more confidence. It was not quite the surge of confidence that came from drinking Felix Felicis but it still felt right.  "Completely," Harry added.

Fingers brushed down his chest.  Snape tilted his head, watching Harry's reaction.  "What is it that you want?" he asked.

That made Harry whimper.  The world of possibilities opened up.  "Everything. Anything. I haven't done...much more than this," he had to confess.  

The hand stroking down his chest went still.  "Much more than kissing? Even with girls?" Snape asked very carefully.  

Harry suspected Snape knew the truth.  He flushed.  "Girls never got me like this," he said, voice shaking slightly.  He shifted on the couch, leg pressing harder against Snape's.

"Only by yourself, then?" asked Snape.  But his hand was moving on Harry's chest and he did not seem worried by Harry's lack of experience.  

"Only ever."  The bulge in Harry's trousers was only slightly relieved by the movement.  

Snape's smirk might have been familiar from classes, but Harry was discovering that this close the expression wasn't all that intimidating.  Not as much, at any rate.  "We'll have that in common then, at least for the past many years," said Snape.  

"Really?" Harry said, pleased by this admission, or by Snape's fingers sliding against him, or both.

Snape made a pleased sound when Harry pushed fingers into his hair.  "This is what you want?"

"Very much," Harry said, "For a long time."  

Snape looked down at him.  "Then we both want the same thing," he said, kissing Harry until Harry was nearly dizzy from it.  No potion, ingested or spilled, had ever felt as good as Snape's kisses.

Harry smiled at him. "I'm not in any hurry. If you want to do more with me, I want to take the time to enjoy every moment of it. This is much better than any potion I've ever heard of."

Snape let his arms wrap around Harry. He sounded amused as he replied, "If you study, you might realize that potions are more enjoyable than you think. Are you willing to let me be your teacher again?"

Smiling, Harry squeezed his arms around Snape. "If all your lessons are going to be like this, I won't ever want to stop studying."

"That will be a first." Snape returned the smile. "Perhaps your good luck will rub off on me."


End file.
